King stopped, looking at his father with a quizzical expression. He really knew nothing about his parents. In many ways they were strangers to him, and small things, like the creases around his father’s eyes that had once given away his jests, now said nothing.

Peter waved at him. “I’m kidding, Jack.”

“Right,” King said, but he still wasn’t sure if the man was joking or not. His parents had been spies. His mother shot a man. That one, or both of them, could pilot a jet at this point wouldn’t be too shocking.

Lynn placed her hand on King’s back and rubbed hard, the way he had liked as a child when sitting through a boring event. “Honey,” she said, standing in front of him. She took his cheek and pulled his face down, while glancing at the jet. “Are you someone important?”

King couldn’t help but smile. For all the secrets his parents had, he had just as many. Whatever documents his mother had seen, most likely an I.D. or message from one of the team, wouldn’t have given away exactly what it was he did. They knew as little about him as he did about them.

But they were family.

King hugged his mother. “The things I do … no one will ever know about them. I’m no one, Mom.”

“You’re a father,” she said.

“Foster parent,” he corrected, leaving his mother’s embrace and standing up straight. “And not a very good one.”

“Bullshit,” Peter said. “Where you’re going, is it dangerous?”

“Yes,” King said, not wanting to lie to his parents and realizing his father wasn’t asking for important details.

“You could get killed?”

“Yes, Dad.”

King could see worry creeping into his mother’s eyes and didn’t want her to break down in tears.

“And you’re doing this for your daughter?”

King thought about the question. It was his job to put his life on the line for all Americans. He did it all the time. But this was different. This was personal. It was for Fiona. “Yes.”

“Son, there is no greater love than a father who is willing to lay down his life for his children.” He took King’s shoulders in his hands. “Do you understand?”

The words resonated with King. He wasn’t a good father. He knew that. How could a single man on the world’s most mysterious and elite Delta team attend to a thirteen-year-old girl? But that wasn’t his father’s point. The point was, he would die to save Fiona.

Strange, that a man who spent the last ten years in prison could make so much sense, King thought, and then held his breath. Peter had gone to jail and suffered the loathing of his son so that he could have a normal childhood. He had given up his life to protect King from the realities of their past. The tough old ex-con, ex-spy, without realizing it, had just told King he loved him.

“I understand, Dad. Thanks.” King headed toward the jet and looked back with a grin. His mother grew weepy as he climbed the ladder. He turned back toward Decon where Aleman stood in the doorway. “Find them someplace to stay.”